


Royal Treatment

by Ellenar_Ride



Series: Mending Links [10]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Mending Links 'Verse, Prince of the Desert AU, or at least it's not dwelled on?, surprisingly little angst for this series, trust me it's there if you look close enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:00:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23668780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellenar_Ride/pseuds/Ellenar_Ride
Summary: His silence has unnerved them, and he cannot allow that to stand. When it becomes apparent that they are truly done attempting to free him, Sand bares his teeth in a smile that is all sharp edges and the kiss of madness, breaks his right hand without flinching, and pulls his arm free. Now untethered, he cracks the remaining shackle against his knee and the metal comes apart; he picks up the fallen shackles, stows them on his belt, and meets his other selves' wary gazes with a mild sort of charm.(Prompt: Imprisonment)
Series: Mending Links [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1545610
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	Royal Treatment

When Sand arrives at the Homestead, his hands are bound in shackles of iron and duty. His shoulders ache from being pulled back for so long, and his hair (his lovely hair, that Baba brushed and braided every morning and night while they discussed everything and nothing) has been cropped short in an ugly cut that requires no maintenance because they will not leave him the freedom to care for it. He straightens his spine, bears the weight of his chains with a monstrous dignity, and smiles like a helping hand in the dark. A gaggle of boys (and one woman, he notices quickly, tracking her teal-painted face as she ducks through the knot of people), blue-eyed and mostly blond, gather around him and try to remove his shackles.

They have his face. They pepper him with questions— _where are you from? What are you wearing? Why are you in chains?—_ and they have his voice. Mostly. There are some slight variations, but they are small in comparison with the similarities. He watches his other selves with dry eyes and a mild expression and does not answer their questions. He _cannot_ answer their questions; his chains do not only bind his hands.

They try for three hours to break his chains and his silence, some more determinedly than others, before conceding a temporary defeat, quiet and apologetic. His silence has unnerved them, and he cannot allow that to stand. When it becomes apparent that they are truly done attempting to free him, Sand bares his teeth in a smile that is all sharp edges and the kiss of madness, breaks his right hand without flinching, and pulls his arm free. Now untethered, he cracks the remaining shackle against his knee and the metal comes apart; he picks up the fallen shackles, stows them on his belt, and meets his other selves' wary gazes with a mild sort of charm.

Sav lets out a strangled cry of alarm and darts forward to take Sand's arm, prodding at his broken hand and hissing sympathetically as he pushes several bones back into their proper places. It _hurts,_ like the time he'd refused to wear his sunblock on a dare and spent the next few days feverishly trying to crawl out of his own skin, but he doesn't let any pain show on his face. He doesn't tighten his jaw, or tense the muscles of his arm, or shift in place to a better stance for taking and dealing damage. A non-reaction is the best reaction—anything further only eggs on his tormentors.

Oh, he knows in his head that this place is safe—these people, these other _Links,_ have been too kind to him to have any intentions of harming him. But knowing something in his _head_ is significantly different than knowing it in his heart or his muscles or his nerves. Knowing something in his head isn't always enough to break an ingrained response. So he doesn't so much as twitch as Sav wraps up his hand and binds it as best he can to hold the bones in place while it heals.

The more time Sand spends in the Homestead, in the company of the other Links, the more his body catches up with his brain. The more he can relax, _truly_ relax, and know that he is safe. When his hand is healed again, he begs every Link whose hair is long enough to let him do their braids—it’s odd, being on the other side of this ritual, but his fingers itch to feel silky threads of hair under their pads, his hands long for the familiar repetitive twist of forming a plait, and deep in his heart he craves a closeness, a connection, to know the people around him in a way he cannot explain.

Tribal and Sav are the only ones who let him do their braids every day—only once, no-one here sleeps in braids—and in exchange for their indulgence he trades them secrets. He starts with little things: _I hail from a much warmer environment; I am well-accustomed to crowds and cramped conditions; I used to go around the circle at the noon-time meal and re-braid plaits that were coming undone, so I could send the children back to their mothers with tidy braids._ Over the days, the secrets become bigger and bigger: _I was not raised in Hyrule, you know—Hylian is not my first language; I used to have such long hair—I never wanted it cut; before I came here, I was a prisoner in Hyrule Castle for almost a full year._

Eventually, when he’s braiding Sav’s hair, he accidentally reveals his biggest secret: _I miss my baba._ It’s a quiet morning, no-one is awake but the two of them, and they are discussing things they miss. Sav misses hearty truffles, Sand misses hydromelon cubes and voltfruit slices. Sav misses the sound of the waterfall right outside his home, Sand misses the sound of wind howling over the vast empty expanse he used to live in. Sav misses Hateno, the playful children and the friendly adults and the sense of being welcome. Sand misses his baba.

This is how Sand learns he’s the only Link in the Homestead with a family. Oh, Major has a wife, and Split has trauma regarding lost brothers, but Sand is the only one with a parent. Kneeling in the dirt, Sav’s half-finished braid in hand, Sand cries for the first time in a year. It’s the first time he’s felt safe enough to express his grief. And while he cries he redoes Sav’s braid, which has come loose, and tells him all about his baba: a strong, tall, broad-shouldered man who can (and _has)_ wrestle a Lizalfos and win; who protects his people (his sisters and daughters, he says, even if not by blood) with all the strength of his body, mind, and heart; who loves like the desert sun, wild and fierce and unstoppable.

**Author's Note:**

>  **I LIVE.**
> 
> Anyway, here's the next part of _Meeting the Broken Links_ , almost a month late :\ School was being a pain, and Sand kept wanting to talk in direct dialogue and drag the piece fully into scene instead of the abstraction I wanted. But I finally managed to pin it down, so here it is!
> 
> (Edit: I FORGOT MYTH HAS GRANDPARENTS AND AN UNCLE. I AM A DISASTER. I probably won't actually update the story though, because then I'd have to find something else to cut to keep my 1,000 words.)
> 
> (Edit 2: wow I'm bad at keeping track of family members. the quartet have a father (the knight captain), but they're not at the Homestead yet when this piece takes place.)


End file.
